


Poacher

by Uncollecther (AlltheB7)



Series: Poacher [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alex is over it, F/F, Kara thinks it is funny, Lena poaches from the DEO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26482246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlltheB7/pseuds/Uncollecther
Summary: If Alex could keep Lena from poaching her lab techs and agents, she would. She really really would. But as it happens so often, her hands are tied where Lena's are not.
Relationships: Implied Alex Danvers/Lena Luthor
Series: Poacher [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925218
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49





	Poacher

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea that has been rattling around my brain and fic writings for a year.

Getting my master's in xenobiology and robotic engineering had been my goal since I was fifteen and first saw the footage of Supergirl preventing an airplane from crashing into the National City's river. Avid sci-fi reader and high school dork, I suddenly knew that I wanted to discover more. The possibilities were--literally--astronomical.

Thinking back, it was my aptitude in xenobiology that gained the attention of the DEO, but working as an intern had been arduous and chaotic. Not that I would ever complain about meeting Supergirl ( _zomg_ ) and _Doctor Danvers_ \--holy cannolli Dr. Danvers was _so sweet and nth level smart_ \--and I wouldn't ever question my work at the DEO, but the reality is that I spent so much time in the labs doing small tests and redundancies--which were important, yes, the tests were important, but not really impactful. For the last year, even though I'd been promoted to Lab Tech II, I just... wasn't feeling like I was applying myself. National security is important, I know that, but the DEO's glimmer that once caught my eye had waned.

Of course, when you're a xenobiologist, there aren't exactly jobs jumping out from every corner. In a highly specialized field with incredibly high pressures on budgets and testing results, it was difficult to find openings, and when a position did become available, it meant there was steep competition by several qualified people. 

Being half-alien helped me in some ways (mostly in conceptual and advanced level studies), but most help came as a double-edged sword of either living in secrecy to keep safe or living in fear when people found out.

Right after getting my Master's, Agent of Liberty released records of known "hybrids" to school boards and universities. Although raised by my human father after my mother's death and having no experience or knowledge of my mother's species' technology, the university almost stripped me of my degree during my last semester. People thought I'd cheated school and didn't deserve the degree.

(Had I been more knowledgeable about my mother's heritage, things would have worked against me. Humans preferred aliens being ignorant as opposed to smart. Smart meant dangerous, if one judged things by the Luthor stamp.)

I was tough when the university administration office hung up after telling me that my PhD would likely be scrapped, but I couldn't bank the tears. All the years, all the time I spent as an aide, all the work I put into university research--all of that meant nothing to these people. Nothing I did mattered. Hot angry tears fell, and still clutching the phone, I broke down. 

Thankfully, Dad called. If he hadn't called, I probably wouldn't have gotten the lecture about life being unfair and fighting for myself. And if I hadn't gotten that call I wouldn't have looked into aliens rights groups. And if I hadn't done that, I wouldn't have met the reporters who would later expose the university administration. After all, I wasn't the only student unfairly targeted.

I missed Mother fiercely, but it was Father that had stood by me, that always pushed. "Zami, we did not come here to be small. Be strong," he said, dark skin glowing in the morning light at the cafe. He had a penchant for spicy chai lattes with whipped cream, and was on a quest to find the best chai. Father refused to order anything from Starbucks--"They don't even add pepper to their chai!" he exclaimed. 

Which was how I came to the DEO fresh out of college. I wanted a challenge and to get past the bittersweet taste of finally receiving my diplomas from the university. And working at the DEO was great, albeit a bit demanding with limited pay. There were other perks: seeing Supergirl, Dreamer, and Martian Manhunter, not to mention meeting and discussing ideas with Winn Schott at lunch every now and again.

But that was before I got called on emergency on the new transmatter portal after the attack on the west entrance last month. Scrambling along with a few other techs, I struggled to get the functions input to the pad and to get the portal running so that they could track Supergirl down and bring her home. The pad glitched, and I could have cried as my fingers danced over the data keys. Something wasn't working right. As I ticked out a few more attempts, Lena Luthor stalked over, face set.

"What's going on?" her voice, not angry, was forceful.

"Not sure, Ms. Luthor," I replied. The hunch in my thighs told me it had to be in the sequencer node and I ran over to the control panel, already opened, and scanned the wiring. "I think it's the sequencer," I said as I located the node and carefully rewired it. There was a shout from Director Danvers to _get things together, people!_ and I twitched, hoping that I found the mistake.

"Think?" the woman in the business suit questioned as she watched over my shoulder, eyes narrow, intense.

Back to pad, I typed in the galactic coordinates and the instructions popped up on the monitor in front of Winn. "Thank heavens," I sighed and looked up to Ms. Luthor with a smile.

"How'd you know that would work?" the brunette asked, suspicious.

"I didn't. Felt it in my jellies, I guess," I replied.

* * *

Wrapping up protocol and stepping out of the isolation and decon chambers, my stomach growled. It had been a long day, cataloguing, testing, and analysing the Uyth components with no reactions. If we had a isolinear modulator, maybe we'd be able to gather more data, but our instruments didn't register matter from the delta quadrant like our own. The Director had rejected our lab's budget request to try building the experimental tech on the basis that we had gotten funding for our phase-inducing spanners last year.

Budget cuts are downers.

As I'm turning the corner, Lena Luthor stepped forward with a gentle "Zami Khan, hello."

With a start, I threw up the tablet and screamed.

Dodging off to the side, the brunette covered her head and face, backing away. "Sorry! Not here to hurt you!" Her wide eyes rounded and she attempted a careful smile. "Hi there," she tried again, carefully holding out a hand, as if to shake.

Chest heaving, I blew out a breath and gathered my wits, "Hi," I breathed out and looked at her hand, "I don't really shake hands." I bit my tongue to not apologize, but my eyes carried the guilt.

"Oh, of course," the woman brought her hand back to side, "Presumptuous of me. Is there a standard way I should greet you?"

"I--uh--" I stuttered. People didn't usually ask. "Just a wave," I weakly wave a hand around chest height.

"Like this?" she asks, hands waving out three fingers, emulating the way I held my hand.

"Oh, fingers don't matter, not really on Earth," I explain. Father had found Mother's journal last year, and with a few resources at the DEO, I had been able to finally find information on where Mother was from--on my own past, my own family. 

Nodding, Ms. Luthor cleared her throat and gave a small smile. "I have heard that you enjoy chai lattes? Might I take you out for lunch?"

Looking around at Kathleen down the hallway, eyes wide and silently freaking out, I turn back to the woman. "Sure?" 

* * *

Knocking at Director Danver's door, I waited until she called out "Open."

Stepping carefully inside and holding the folder, I smiled hesitantly. "Director, I have--"

Dead-eyeing me, the Director breathed deeply and pursed her lips with a resolute nod.

"Was it the 401k or the toys?" her voice was flat.

Wincing, I nodded in spite of myself, "Both."

Reaching out, she held out her hand, "Well, let's have it then," she said.

The resignation moved from me to the Director. She flipped open the folder and quickly read through the letter and nodded again. Looking up, she asked, "Honestly--is there anything I could do that would inspire you to stay?"

Thinking of the R&D labs I toured with Ms. Luthor, the employee benefits, the commissions... "I don't think so."

"You don't think so or don't want to say so?" the woman pressed firmly. 

"It's better pay and there's a lot of PTO." I swallowed and thought of my Father. Strong. "And I will get personal access to labs for my own experiments." I paused here because there was one last thing--the real clincher. I took a deep breath, _I am strong, too_. "And she's given me limited clearance to learn about my mother."

At this, the Director's eyes softened and she smiled. "That's good." She held the gaze for a long moment before turning back to the paperwork, "Well, as it stands, you're all set--your contract is up next quarter and--" she shuffled through the forms "per usual, your work is impeccable. It's been a pleasure, Khan." With a three-fingered loop and wave, the Director bowed her head.

At the gesticulation, I smiled. This was more bittersweet than I had anticipated. "Thank you, Director. It's been an honor," I replied.

* * *

At the unofficial going away party with the other squints at the karaoke bar, Kara and Alex buy us drinks and laugh. The Director points at me and gives me a mean face, "Alright, Khan--" she narrows her eyes, "Time to fess up. Did the Luthor drug you? Did she threaten your family?"

Surprised, I have no idea if she's being serious until Kara shoves at her sister. 

"Stop! This is why Khan left--you threaten people," she rolls her eyes at me and laughs.

"Seriously," the elder Danvers glowers, "she does anything--and I mean anything _slightly_ foccaccia--you call me or Kara and we're there. No questions asked."

From behind me, I hear the low voice from that day at the cafe, "Is the Director feeling put out?" And then Lena Luthor is standing just to my right, smug as the moon pulls the tides, her gravity just as unseen, just as compelling. "Don't be sour, Alex," the woman purrs, leaning over and kissing her sweetly on the cheek before gesticulating to me with her right hand. I wave in turn with a smile. 

It's nice to share this part of myself.

Clearly pleased at the kiss, but miffed, the dark-eyed woman glares at my new boss. "That's the second person in six months," she accuses. "I'm going to ban you from speaking with our techs if you keep this up."

With a careless shrug, the green-eyed woman smiles at me warmly before turning to Alex, "Well, some things cannot be helped, Director. I wanted an isolinear modulator and don't have the time to make one myself with all of the trouble you and Kara get yourselves into."

Kara smiles at Alex, "Yeah, if you keep it up, Lena, Alex is going to be running the labs all by herself."

Groaning, Alex's head drops, "Please don't jinx me, Kara."

With a pat on her back, Lena Luthor leans down to Director Danvers, "Don't worry, Director, I'll keep you company."

Though I quit my job at the DEO, I don't feel like I'm really leaving.


End file.
